


Epilogue 1

by Urbanvix



Series: In the Grip of the Dragon [2]
Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Epilogue, Evil Reid, F/M, I'm not going to tag every sex act individually, M/M, Newborn Vampire, Sex, Too much sex, my partner made me post it, predators at play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21762778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Urbanvix/pseuds/Urbanvix
Summary: I intended to end 'Grip' with one more big sex scene. But as the writing went on, it felt like an inappropriate place to end it. So, the scene got dropped in favour of a much more important climax. Except... I couldn't quite leave the idea alone. So I wrote it anyway.This is a wholly unnecessary amount of vampire sex (and a dose of Vampyr angst). It is excessive. It is ridiculously self-indulgent. It contains more dark and dirty McReid +1 than a reasonable world needs.I should never have written this. You definitely should not read it. You have been warned.That said, this follows immediately after the last chapter of Grip. You can decide for yourself if it's canon or not to that story! Enjoy!
Relationships: Charlotte Ashbury/Geoffrey McCullum, Charlotte Ashbury/Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid, Charlotte Ashbury/Jonathan Reid, Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Series: In the Grip of the Dragon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555654
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Epilogue 1

Charlotte could wake up at any time, so they didn't delay long. Only, when they returned to the Manor, she remained as still as death. It gave Geoffrey a moment's sharp fear, but Reid slipped onto the bed and listened, very carefully, resting his hand on her chest.

Then he nodded and said, softly, “Soon, I think. Though it's not something I've had a chance to study before.”

Geoffrey exhaled. He didn't want to dive into his own complicated feelings about that. The situation was what it was. Instead, he took the chair and prepared to wait.

“You should bathe.” Reid said gently.

“I should be here.” He answered firmly.

Reid smirked. “You smell like a sewer.”

“And whose fault is that, beast ?”

“Decisively yours, for once.” Reid purred. “Even if we both spent much of our first night in the sewers, or alongside the dead, that's no reason to put her through the same experience. I'll stay and call you back if she stirs.”

Geoffrey raised his head and glared at his Maker, but there was no real reproach. Time was, he'd have turned that barb around to Reid's culpability for his own brutal awakening. Now, they saw each other more clearly. Reid had woken up in a plague pit. Small wonder the posh toff didn't bat an eyelid about going down into the sewers.

So McCullum grunted and took the advice. He could _hear_ Reid's thoughts, mumbling at the edges of his mind, something about needing to buy a larger bathtub, so they could both fit.

Reid went after he was done, and McCullum took the time left to untie the poor girl. Now that he was here, now that they were both here, there was no need for her to wake up bound like an animal.

Somehow, he felt it, the moment she came up from the black depths. It wasn't just the subtle tension that returned to her body; he felt her rising to the surface.

“Hello, lass.”

She sat up suddenly, sucking useless air into her lungs, throwing herself to the limits of the bonds Geoffrey hadn't yet opened.

“Shhh.” He soothed.

She twisted towards the sound, eyes wide, pupils no more than pinpricks. She searched almost blindly, seeking for something she couldn't remember. He remembered what that was like. He recognised the animal sound that squeezed out of her throat, mewling, begging, pitiful. Nothing there but need. Her eyes tracked up to his face, and a tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows. She was trying to remember.

“Yes,” He said softly. “It's me. Stay still and I'll let you out.”

That pained, animal sound again.

“I know it hurts.” He said, keeping himself in front of her, where she could see him, while he tugged the loop open. “I remember.”

The loops around her elbows opened enough for him to help her arms out. He worried, fleetingly, about whether he could temper his reflex to throw her off if she lunged for him, but she only sank onto his chest, accepting his help.

He sat back, lifting her head as he tugged aside his collar and tilted his head, “Go on, lass. Take what you need.”  
  
Charlotte found the strength at last to climb him. Her delicate nose pressed into his neck, smelling him, nuzzling. Her arms went around his shoulders and she held him so hard that she might be trying to push herself through his skin.

Her bite, when it came, was clumsy, but not too painful. He'd had worse from Reid. After that, it was strangely pleasant to feel the draw on his veins, all the way down to his heart, knowing that he could stop her if he needed to. Despite what he had done to her, despite what he was letting her do to him, it felt strangely peaceful.

Holding her, contented by the satisfied little sounds she was making, he picked up a low, resonant sound just at the edge of hearing. He recognised it, then he _felt it._

It was Jonathan, growling, almost too low for any human ear to pick up. His anger was sharp-tipped; possessive in all the most destructive ways.

“Oh,” McCullum whispered, almost growling back but not tearing free of Charlotte to look at him. “You don't get to have an opinion on this, Reid.”

“It's not logical, Geoffrey.” His Maker replied from the doorway, his voice rough and inhuman. “I know it's not logical. That's why I'm not acting on it.”

Long before he would have had to say anything, the delicate draw on his veins stopped, and Charlotte's body relaxed against him. She almost hung from him then, taking small, panting breaths.

Her voice, though tiny, was raw with emotion. “Thank you.”

“You don't need to thank me, lass.” He told her, patting the back of her head instinctively, “I'll be apologising to you, soon enough.”

She pulled back from him, letting him get his first proper look at her. Her eyes had settled into new colours now, shifting from their deep brown to a vivid amber. Suddenly, she tensed, eyes darting sideways, then back to his.

He twisted around, looking at Jonathan. His Maker hadn't moved, but he had subsided. He was no longer growling and looked only contemplative. McCullum scowled.

“Is she safe around you ?”

Jonathan thought, carefully, for a few moments, though his body language was still wholly inhuman.  
  
“No.”

“Then -” McCullum broke off. It had taken a moment for the answer to register. “What ?”

“No.” Jonathan said, his voice cold and monstrous but without emotion, “She's not safe.”

He was still standing in the door frame, long and lean. The light from the corridor sheered past him, throwing his face into shadow. Except for his eyes, which always seemed to devour light and spit it out; a faint red gleam just visible in the dark.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me. You choose _now_ to get jealous, beast?” Geoffrey said slowly. He realised he was tense, gradually shifting his weight to better defend Charlotte. “You did this. You don't get to object.”

“I know I don't, Geoffrey.” Jonathan growled. “But I do. I don't... ” Jonathan hesitated, drawing a breath that dragged a little more humanity back into his frame. “I don't know why. But I do.”

Silence then. A long, motionless moment. There was a gulf opening between them; one they could only stare across in incomprehension. Both of them wanted to reach out across that divide, to seize a hold of the other and close it. But the way was unclear. So they remained still, as if resisting any movement that might cause the seams to tear and drag the rift wider.

Charlotte had gone completely silent, crouched against him, still as death. Without a heartbeat to shake her frame, she wasn't even trembling. Dimly, he realised he had been willing her stay still, to stay quiet. He had the strange sense of sitting in the middle of a see-saw, feeling nothing while others tilted dangerously around him.

He found his voice, but it seemed trapped somewhere down beneath his throat. He could feel his chest vibrating when he said, “I won't let you hurt her.”

“I know, Geoffrey. And I don't want to. But I think I will.”

There it was. The rift between what they wanted, and what they _wanted_ to want. Forget everything they had been through, everything McCullum knew about leeches, everything Reid knew about blood; they were still just two young Ekon with no one to warn them before it got bloody.

Geoffrey realised that they were sharing the thought, when Reid really finally spoke.

“Geoffrey,” Reid glanced towards the desk, then back at Charlotte. “I need a sample of her blood, and yours.”

“What are you thinking, beast ?” He sounded like Reid at his most monstrous, and he realised he didn't find that as frightening as he should have.

“I'm thinking,” Jonathan said, as he crossed to the desk and drew out the velvet case. “That my knowledge is limited. But I can't think of a single example of Maker and Progeny co-existing across multiple generations.”

“It happens.” McCullum said, low. “Trust me. The slums of Paris were rife with nests like it – there was one with literally dozens of leeches, all crawling over each other.”

“Were they related ? Or just groups living together ?” Reid paused to ask. His tone was entirely human, civilised; the Doctor was In.

“I didn't stop to ask.”

“Then,” Reid sighed, the monster beginning to cut into his voice again. “They probably weren't.”

Geoffrey grit his teeth, “Don't you fucking dare write this off -”

“I'm not writing off **anything,** Geoffrey.” Reid snarled, fangs bared. “In fact, what I am doing now is quite the opposite. I am **trying** to think logically.”

Geoffrey was standing before he realised he meant to.

“Science and logic be damned.” The words were out. He closed the distance between him and Reid, willing Charlotte to stay still, to stay down. With all that had happened tonight, Charlotte's very existence threatened to take something from them both. Something otherwise irrevocable. But the price of keeping it was Charlotte's life, again, and there was no way he could reconcile himself to that.

He didn't fully know what he was doing, but he trusted his gut as he seized Reid's shirt in a fist, bunched closed to his chest, over his heart. He'd seen so damn much over the years, even if he hadn't fully taken it in. So many memories that were now just background noise. He must know _something_.

He slid one hand up under the silky back hair and Reid let him force his lips to his. It was not a tender kiss. It was not romantic. It was a brutal and honest thing, sharp-edged with fangs scoring flesh and blood skimming between them.

 _Now, who's being dramatic ?_ Reid's thought rolled into his head, though it was tangled in equations and hypotheses; Reid already trying to pin himself under the harsh light of reason.

McCullum had only one answer to that. He drew the doctor's tongue into his mouth, pinned it under a fang and bit down. God, but it was _good_ to feel Reid flinch; so distracted for once that he'd been caught by surprise.

Even so, he didn't pull away. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the perversity of Geoffrey sucking on his tongue, taking a deep draft of blood from his mouth as the kiss went on, and on, and on.

When Geoffrey did finally pull away, he did not swallow. He had no idea if this would do anything at all, but there were too many memories nagging him, telling him to just _look_ with fresh eyes. Reid was silent, head cocked to one side, obviously listening to his thoughts. McCullum decided that was blessing enough.

Maybe the impulse was purely human. Maybe he just wanted to kiss her again.

He joined her on the bed, on the wine-coloured sheets where she'd already died once, where he'd already given her this kiss once, and hoped that he was right. He rested his hand under her chin and gave her the permission she needed to sit up, and reach out to him. His hand tangled in her long hair as their lips touched and his Maker's blood flowed between them.

God, she was so soft.

Even before he heard Reid breathe out, he _felt_ it. He felt the knot come untied in her chest almost as if it were his own; like a cramped muscle unwinding between them both. He felt Reid relax, as though he'd been suffocating and could finally breathe.

He couldn't bear the distance any longer, but the moment he had the thought, Reid was there with them; cool fingers along the back of his neck and the grazing talons under his hairline. He pulled Geoffrey's head back and locked his lips against his own, Reid's blood and the tang of Charlotte bringing the kiss alive between them.

A memory : Reid and Charlotte, this same night. She had known what was coming. But even so, she had hesitated when Reid had opened his arms to her and invited her to breach the wall he had built between them; to cross the gap and wrap her arms around him at last. Forbidden fruit. Her mother's lover. Geoffrey's lover. _Jonathan_. Sweet in his way, but terrifying. Inscrutable. Untouchable.

Still, she had walked forward willingly, had given herself willingly. When he kissed her, just once, and she had felt his fangs lengthen under her lips, it had been nothing like the passionate hunger of Geoffrey's kiss. As he bent to her, she heard the front door open even as the startling pain began.

Geoffrey came back to himself. It was blinding, caught in the tangle between them, caught between Charlotte's innocence and Reid's monstrosity.

Reid was moving away from him, towards Charlotte. Geoffrey tensed, carefully tracking the direction of the thoughts Reid allowed him to see. But did not intervene. Reid's thoughts were speculative; equations and formulae and hypotheses, and what it might be like to lie with a _woman_ again.

God, he could have laughed. It didn't sting. Even at his most monstrous, Reid was still so damn proper.

Still, his monstrous Maker regarded Charlotte speculatively, then bent to lay his lips alongside the two pinprick stains on her neck. She was so small next to him that Reid almost had to bend double; a coiling snake in the bed beside them. Geoffrey rested his hand on his Maker's leg, cupping his calf muscle through the expensive trousers, needing the contact to track this most dangerous moment.

Charlotte's eyes went wide as he broke the skin. Then the knot between them came undone entirely, the rift sliding shut, the danger slipping away, fading to nothing more than a memory.

“Oh.” Charlotte whispered, as she leaned into that long-forbidden embrace.

Geoffrey's hand slid up, up along those long legs as he slid behind Jonathan, running up the lean muscles of his back to sweep out across his shoulders and wrap around his chest at last. He held him, holding her, as a new and bestial urge rose.

He growled into Reid's ear, asking without the need for words. His Maker leaned back and on his tongue, between bared fangs and the prickle of Reid's beard, he tasted Charlotte's new blood for the first time.

A snap of tension jolted from chin to groin, clenching his stomach muscles, pressing him up into Reid's back. His claws sliced out through his fingertips, ruining yet another shirt and tearing into the flesh of Jonathan's chest.

 _We can't._ A faint thought struggled to make itself heard; a last desperate gasp of his humanity through the entirely animal need. _We're too goddamn rough._

But Charlotte put paid to that notion. He felt her breath on his raw fingertips, then her pursing, gentle lips went questing down his talons, to kiss the wound and taste Jonathan again.

_Oh fuck it._

***  
  
Geoffrey's claws tore outwards, ripping the shirt from Jonathan's chest. He hissed, delighted at the pain and the pleasure of Charlotte's mouth on the wounds.

He had been kneeling over Charlotte, but now Geoffrey drew him back, holding him up against his body. The hungry kisses left his mouth and Jonathan let his arms slide back as the shirt was pulled away.

The fabric twisted, tangled, and Jonathan's wrists were suddenly bound up in it. An accident, but Geoffrey didn't miss a second. He twisted it, tightening it further, forming a knot.

Jonathan felt a wicked smile, tight across his own teeth, and he growled over his shoulder, “You know that won't hold me.”

Geoffrey surged up again, grinning. Teeth and lips brushed Jonathan's his ear as he spoke, “It will if you let it, beast. We're too rough, you and me. Too rough for her.” He nibbled the curve of Jonathan's ear as he growled, “Consider it a reminder to hold back, nothing more.”

Jonathan didn't know what thoughts might be flowing between Geoffrey and his new Progeny. He didn't know if there would be any at all, another generation removed from the inhuman influence of his Maker. But Geoffrey's thoughts ran red against his, urging him to just _let this happen._

Shocked by the sudden wantonness of it, the deviant thoughts lingering in his head, Reid was utterly inclined to oblige. He looked down, into Charlotte's face. Her eyes were bright, eager, intelligent. She was hungry for everything her new life held.

 _Well_ , He thought, as he felt Geoffrey urging Charlotte to do whatever she wanted, feeling the calloused hands tracing around his stomach. _We're all learning._

***

God, every time Geoffrey stumbled across one of Reid's hidden inhibitions, it made him ache. His heart was beating now, racing with the power of feeling Reid bound beneath his hands, no matter how fleetingly. Charlotte's thoughts weren't quite thoughts in his head; more like flashes, like smelling the phosphor after a match had burst into flame. But God, she wanted this as well and she had _no idea_ that the only one who wasn't expecting it was the monster she so idolised.

Maybe it was the blood, but who _cared._

He twisted his hand in the shirt, and brought his other around, tracing down Reid's slender stomach to slip a finger under his waistband. Charlotte eased closer, pressing her body against Jonathan's. Her hands went everywhere as she drew close, running them between them both, rearing up to kiss the underside of Jonathan's jaw while Geoffrey kissed his neck.

He slipped his hand beneath the fabric and around Reid's waking cock, squeezing gently, drawing up in slow, teasing strokes as his Maker grew hard under his hand. Charlotte was all-too eager to help. Her hands traced his bare stomach and strayed down, fleetingly, almost flinching back as if afraid of going too far.

But Geoffrey felt Reid tense as her fingers fluttered across the tip, exposed above his waistband. Oh, Jonathan might relish Geoffrey's rough touch, but Charlotte was so impossibly soft, impossibly delicate...like Elisabeth had been.

He growled into Reid's neck as the realisation hit him through his Maker's thoughts. Reid had never been Elisabeth's lover. That cruel leech had never spared him the time, never done more with the confused newborn Ekon than a coy, flirting dance of seduction. A budding romance that she had ended in fire.

God, what a parasite she had been, Geoffrey thought. Reid couldn't even see it. Charlotte couldn't see it. But here they both were, able to forget all that at last and just seize the fucking moment. Well, if there was one thing he could teach them, to repay the education they'd given him, it was that.

He met Charlotte's eyes down the length of Reid's chest. Startling, how he didn't need to ask. She heard him, loud and clear, and nodded.

She gave him her hand and let him guide it to his Maker's cock, closing her fingers gently around him. Geoffrey kept his hand over hers, showing her, teaching her what he liked. Reid moaned low. He strained, just slightly, against his bonds but eased back when Geoffrey twisted his fist and tightened the knot. His other hand was still at work, drawing hers up to the tip slowly, then down, a little faster. He grew as hard as iron under her delicate hand.

Geoffrey slipped his hand back and let her carry on. He dragged Reid back by his wrists and leaned in. But his Maker only growled, arching delicately to catch his lips with his own, blocking Geoffrey from kissing his neck. A gentle reminder of his power over them both.

Geoffrey was under no illusions about that.

Shrugging out of his own shirt, he forced Reid's bound hands down, giving Geoffrey space to press close into his back again. Skin to skin. Feeling the little trembles along Jonathan's shoulders through his chest as Charlotte's touch became more confident, more persuasive.

His Maker growled, then gasped as claws drew sharp circles into his flesh and Geoffrey's rigid cock pressed against his back through the trouser cloth. Working around her, he unbuckled Reid's trousers and tugged down, exposing that lovely tight-muscled arse of his.

Charlotte knew what he wanted. She left off and moved away a little. Geoffrey had to hold on, wrapping an arm around and coaxing Jonathan to patience with little kisses and savage small bites, tugging teasingly at his cock as she turned her back to them.

The fabric of her dress parted like butterfly wings under Geoffrey's claws, falling away from her caramel skin. She needed no urging to curl back against Jonathan after. Pressed between them, Jonathan's prick drew a small, damp line up the small of her back. Starbursts of satisfaction peppered Geoffrey's thoughts; Charlotte becoming certain now that the doctor had desired her for more than just her human blood. She tilted her head, nuzzling at Jonathan's beard from beneath as she sent her hands down, gliding over the chocolate curves, unclasping and unbuckling her girdle, unwrapping herself like a present.

Geoffrey couldn't hold Jonathan back much longer if she was determined to push like this. But god-damn, it felt good to have an accomplice.

When she shrugged out of the remnants, and the broad curve of her natural figure escaped it's confines, even Charlotte heard the fabric tearing. She spun, startled as Jonathan tore free. He whipped forward like a snake, pinning her to the bed beneath his hands. Geoffrey went forward with him, already ready to temper him if he went too far.

But Jonathan only brought his face within inches of Charlotte's and smiled, sharp fanged and dangerous. Charlotte's breath caught to see him; see him as he really was, and right at the edge of his restraint.

 _I won't hurt her_. The monstrous thoughts crept in Geoffrey's head, _However..._

He twisted and rolled. Geoffrey swore at the unexpected motion that tore him off Reid's back and threw him down underneath him, one arm pinned against Reid's side. Reid's hand snapped shut around one of his wrists, dragging it above his head as their fangs locked together. Blood sang between them, thick on both their tongues.

Adjusting, Jonathan freed his other hand and slid it down, long fingers teasing Geoffrey's cock up and out of his trousers, stroking with claw-tips pricking into his skin.

High on the exhilaration of the fright, Charlotte did not remain a spectator for long. He felt Jonathan purring against his mouth and felt him wiggle out of his trousers as she helped to undress him.

Naked now, Jonathan rose, turning, and kissed her.

It was the first time Geoffrey had been here to witness it, and it thrilled him. A deviant delight. A dark pleasure of sharing something otherwise forbidden. They both belonged to him in separate ways. Reid nipped gently at her lip, drawing the faint tang of blood into their embrace, then turned his attention entirely to her.

***  
  
She was soft as rose petals and sweet as honey. Jonathan had never put Charlotte in this context when she was alive, when Elisabeth had been alive. But Elisabeth was gone, and Charlotte was here, and he didn't care any more.  
  
It was so deeply satisfying to run his hands over curves infinitely softer that the hard press of Geoffrey's muscles under his hands. Even better, when he knew that Geoffrey lay only inches away, also there for the taking. It was an animal thing. Bestial. Beyond comprehension or justification.

Jonathan was long done justifying himself to anyone … anyone except Geoffrey McCullum. For him alone, he would hold back and savour Charlotte as he might not have done otherwise. Beneath the animal lust, there was a dark anger brewing; a rage against Elisabeth's cowardice that he could not allow to settle on Charlotte's shoulders... for Geoffrey's sake.

Instead, he lifted her in his arms, feeling her delight at the unbridled strength that lifted her like a feather. He rolled away from Geoffrey, onto her, letting his lips devour the inches of smooth flesh, down and around the curve of her breasts. He nuzzled deep into them, savouring the lingering smell of living sweat from mere hours ago; the tang of fear that had since departed. He could now do what Geoffrey could not have done, back when he had caught them together.

With clever fangs, he drew a hairline cut along the flesh of her breast, to taste her blood as he licked along her broad areolas, and sucked on her tender, erect nipples. She gasped, but only in surprise. The shy cut shrunk away to nothing in moments.

Geoffrey was murmuring in the back of his mind, urging him further downward, between her legs, as he manoeuvred himself beneath and took Jonathan's cock in his own mouth. The explosion of sensation was blinding after so much temptation. Losing control for an instant, he bit deeply into her breasts and Charlotte yelped as blood burst over his tongue.

Geoffrey rolled him over, but did not try to reproach him. The moment he was on his back, Geoffrey's rough hand was around him again, keeping the pain and pleasure alive, urging him to give himself over and watch, while he licked Charlotte's beautiful breasts clean.

Geoffrey kissed away the pain and Charlotte's shock turned to languorous pleasure, then delight as the wounds closed entirely. Then, with his hand still tight around Reid's cock, still pulsing, still stroking, still blinding him, Geoffrey nuzzled her breasts and gently, far more gently, bit down. Her head rolled back in shock and pleasure. Free to enjoy it now, she moaned as a trickle of sweet blood escaped to roll down the curve of body.

With a gasp of dismay, Reid lost himself at the sight, curling against a sudden orgasm that hit like a fist. It powered up through him and Geoffrey would not relent, would not give him a moment to recover or breathe until, finally, Jonathan's seed spilled across his hand.

He fixed his eyes on them as soon as he could see again. Geoffrey chuckled at his wounded expression; entirely too smug. But Charlotte only looked deeply, deeply satisfied about what had occurred.

Jonathan at last drew a long breath and growled. “You fight dirty, my dear Hunter.”

“I always have done, beast.” Geoffrey taunted him in return, “But this time, I had help. So much for your vaunted control.”

“Oh, my **Progeny,”** Reid purred darkly, sitting up, “You know better than that.”

****

A few moments later, Reid took Charlotte's chin in his hands and drew her face to his, as Geoffrey got to work cleaning the mess away with his tongue. Reid was being gentler now, giving her the time to adjust. That was better. He couldn't let him forget that her eyes were still bright, still clear, while his and Reid's were the dark red of sins indulged, of the monster close to the surface.

Hairline cuts appeared around her jaw where Jonathan's claws caught her but he kissed them closed every time, easing her into the roughness of their play. Then, at last, Reid tilted his head aside and invited her fangs into his neck.

 _Now who's fighting dirty_. He thought, viciously.

 _If you didn't want to sit out,_ Jonathan growled back, even his thoughts hoarse with want. _You shouldn't have made a mess._

Geoffrey snarled, but couldn't resist the command he'd been given. Reid's will was as firm as a hand on his head, pushing him down to lick his Maker's stomach and cock clean. Still, he took his vengeance with the hands cupped under Reid's arse, slicing deep but only magnifying the pleasure of Charlotte's bite.

The restraint they both had to keep for Charlotte added an unexpected spice to this situation. Geoffrey couldn't lunge for Reid's throat with her in the middle, and he knew it. Another kind of control, of course. But different. Deliciously different.

McCullum licked his lips, finished at last. He shrugged out of his own trousers as Charlotte rolled into the space he had left. Naked, she straddled Reid, all her attention on the monster in the bed. But his eyes met his Maker's over her back as he returned to them.

Charlotte whimpered in surprise as he ran his fingertips along her spine. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, he knew it was a very, very good thing he had so much self-control.

***  
  
Charlotte's weight was so slight on his stomach; delicate like a bird. Jonathan couldn't help but cup her cheek, looking into those undisguised amber eyes and longing to see them roll red with blood. He smiled as he listened to all Geoffrey's wicked muttering thoughts. Then took her hand in his mouth and bit the flesh beside her thumb, only gently. Meanwhile, he slid his free hand down her stomach and over her pubic bone to rest, temptingly, against the delicate hood of her clitoris.

Over her shoulder, he saw Geoffrey undress and felt his own recumbent member twitch, already waking again. He was magnificent to behold, naked now, muscles firm under a rolling manuscript of scars. The pale lines even traced under his navel, where some clawed beast had tried to eviscerate him. It had failed. Of course it had. Likely, it never had a chance.

But below that, there were no scars. Only the thick black hair and the astonishingly sturdy manhood that Geoffrey was massaging, slowly, as he licked his lips and gazed hungrily at them both. His eyes were still profoundly blue, even as predatory as they had become.

It wouldn't take long at all, Reid thought as he watched his Progeny advance on Charlotte's turned back, for him to be ready again.

He removed his finger and slipped it into his mouth, moistening it and tasting the salt of her skin. Without words, without looking, he returned and touched her at the same time that Geoffrey did.

Geoffrey's hands above, his hands below. Charlotte didn't know which way to turn. She twisted to look at Geoffrey, and Jonathan tilted his fingers, chasing under the hood to brush against her clitoris with his thumb, letting his fingers massage the dark skin of her vulva. That decided her, as the intensity of direct contact drew a startled gasp and threw her forward to clutch against his raised arm.

***  
  
He could feel Reid riding his suggestions, taking his filthy thoughts and marrying them to medical knowledge. He felt wonderfully complicit, as Charlotte folded over with a gasp under his Maker's hands. She threw herself onto Reid's arm for support, but he lowered her down to him.

 _Bastard_. Geoffrey thought, without malice.

The movement was for his benefit, he was sure. Reid's long arms could reach easily, could continue to rub and slide against her, even as she descended to meet his lips. But as she bent over, the round curve of Charlotte's buttocks drew tight and the dark swell of her vulva tilted into view. Reid's fingers were shockingly pale against her skin. Reid was a surgeon; he had died with nails trimmed flat, and there was little need for him to be careful as he stroked and penetrated her, ice-white fingers diving deliciously deep.

Geoffrey straddled them both, noting with pleasure that Reid would soon be joining them again. As he brushed the tip of his cock against her, Charlotte moaned; a small, pleading sound he had heard before. Now as then, he would be glad to respond. But Reid's long fingers were stroking them both, parting Charlotte's lips against him, drifting down his cock and he had to stop for a moment and just let himself _feel_. Forbidden. Unthinkable. Reid and Charlotte both, each goading him in their own way. Her, with a wordless pleading. Him, with his eyes dark and wicked, over her shoulder as she turned her mouth away, gasping.

With Reid's fingers slick around his cock, he took two handfuls of Charlotte's arse and pulled her back slowly, steadily, relentlessly onto him. He let his head roll back, closed his eyes and just _felt._ She was no longer shockingly warm, but god she was strong, so goddamn strong. Firm under his hands and around his cock in a way she had never been before. Barely holding back, knowing himself too large to simply let go, he eased her back, making a few shallow thrusts.

She growled for the first time, and Reid's face split into a filthy, triumphant grin at the sound. She was impatient, wanting more, and wanting it now. Reid rested his hands on her shoulders, and braced her.

His Maker drew a breath, kissed Charlotte so delicately that Geoffrey _knew_ what was coming, even before he said it.

“Geoffrey.” Reid growled, “ _Give her what she wants._ ”

The words were a command, wrapping his limbs, slicing through his self-restraint. The tips of his claws slid from his nails as he rode the trend of Charlotte's thoughts, driving himself down hard into her, hearing her cry out in shock. Withdrawing, he adjusted his height, thrusting deeper, closed his hands around her hips and thrust down hard again. Still, she pushed back against him. All bets were off then, her thoughts coming in crystal clear as he finally stopped telling himself what she needed, and listened instead.

God, he felt like a fool, but that didn't matter. She wasn't delicate any more. She wasn't breakable. And she _wanted,_ more powerfully than he'd ever imagined. Her muscles wrapped tight around his cock, flush with blood and firm against him.

 _God,_ Geoffrey gritted his teeth as her senses ran roughshod over his.

She'd held back for so long, so fucking long, and now she had everything she wanted. He pounded her, he fucked her so deep that the scream rose and burst out without her meaning to. Jonathan's hands toyed with her somewhere near the surface, drawing out a tiny pinprick of pain in counterpoint to the exquisite, wordless agony of Geoffrey filling her body. Her hips, her back, her entire body was on fire; a swelling, building volcano that threatened to blow her apart unless it finally, finally erupted.

She came, violently, her back muscles going rigid under Geoffrey's claws. He snapped back into his own body in time to realise that he'd cut her deeply, that her blood was running freely and pooling in the little dip at the small of her back. His hands were slick with it and he could feel Reid's monstrous satisfaction.

 _What the hell am I doing ?_ A cold and unexpected voice barrelled into his mind. The voice was his own, echoing up from weeks ago. A version of himself peered out through his eyes, seeing a woman's back slick with blood, his own claws buried, his hands bloodied and his cock buried to the hilt in a vampire, and could not understand why he had not staked himself before it came to this. The blood of innocents was on his hands. It was that simple.

_Take the head off to be sure._

***  
  
Jonathan was up in an instant, moving Charlotte aside as Geoffrey's thoughts tumbled out of control. He damned himself twice, thrice, for not _thinking._ He knew Geoffrey better than that, knew how deeply his fear of hurting the innocent was wrapped around his psyche. He knew that the real trauma for Geoffrey, in becoming the thing he had hunted, had been learning that he _had_.

As McCullum staggered back from the bed, already falling instinctively into a fighting stance, Jonathan leapt on him. Geoffrey snarled, but Jonathan wrapped his long arms around his Hunter, trying to bring him back from the past and into the present where he belonged.

 _You are mine._ He told him, softly, and Geoffrey found his footing.

Geoffrey breathed, manually and deliberately, and the wild look faded. He shook his head.

Reid whispered the answer directly into his ear, “No, you didn't lose control, Geoffrey. I made you do it.”

The panic left his eyes. “Bastard.” He agreed, gritting his teeth. “Monster.”

“Yes, but not that kind. I won't do it again, Geoffrey.”

“Fuck you, Reid.”

It didn't need a response. Jonathan didn't give one. Geoffrey subsided within his embrace, curling over to rest his broad chin along his shoulder. His features were locked in a faint snarl. Charlotte staggered up from the bed, groggy and uncoordinated with endorphins, but worried.

Still fearful of Jonathan, she avoided coming close to him and circled around to approach from Geoffrey's side instead, one impossibly delicate hand reaching out to touch his bloody skin. As soon as she did, Geoffrey turned to look down at her.

Maybe it was the sheer quantity of blood they had shared tonight, but Jonathan could hear the faintest echo of the emotions that passed between them.

Charlotte said, “If it helps, it was good for me.”

Geoffrey barked a laugh, then another, then more as he stopped laughing at what she had said and started laughing at himself. Then he broke away and swept Charlotte up in his broad arms, lifting her high until she swung her legs around his body.

He kissed her collarbone, then turned to seize Jonathan's chin in his hand and drag him into a kiss that was more human than it had ever been before; an expression of forgiveness.

As they broke away, he growled into Jonathan's teeth. “If we're going to involve other people, we're going to need to set some ground rules.”

“On that, we are agreed.”

“But,” A devious look slid into his expression, arching one thick eyebrow. “I don't want to stop the damn good thing we've got going here if,” He let his hand slip from Jonathan's beard and took his Maker's hand, placing it firmly on the small of Charlotte's back. “You're both up for it.”  
  
As it turned out, Charlotte was 'up for it' enough for all three of them.  
  


***

  
The pressure built again rapidly with Reid wrapping around him, purring into his ear, “Since you're worried about losing control, I'll take care of that, my Hunter.”

Reid pushed Geoffrey roughly onto the edge of the bed, then whipped around behind him, seizing his arms. There was no gentle easing back into the mood. They were so far past that, it was painful.

Reid held him in an iron grip, arms pinned tight to his sides, while Charlotte knelt in front of him, kissing him everywhere. Her soft, pliant lips kissed the inside of his thighs, the inside of his groin, even his balls before at last they travelled to his cock, her delicate tongue circling the sleepy head until he felt himself stiffening, rising to meet her.

Then she wrapped those full and supple lips around him. He hadn't known that she would, and the tenderness with which she attended to him was excruciating. Her hands joined her mouth, pinning back the skin and drawing him tight, making every draught sing as he swelled until she could not continue, until he had become too much for her mouth. Then she licked and kissed and sucked on the tip alone.

A dark pleasure crept in, despite himself, that the woman he had been clawing at in a frenzy only moments ago wanted so badly to fill her mouth with his cock. He was monstrous, but she didn't care. She loved him for it. It was only a matter of time before Reid caught the thread of his thoughts and chased them, letting go to stroke a claw down the side of his face and savour the sight with him.

A low growl simmered in the air. It took a while for Geoffrey to realise it was coming from him.

Then Reid seized his hands again and held him while Charlotte climbed on top of him.

While she knelt, holding that wonderful, throbbing wetness mere millimeters above his cock, Reid kissed the skin above his collarbone, then sliced it open. The wash of blood was too much for a newborn Ekon to resist. Charlotte sealed her lips hungrily around the wound, sinking fangs in even as she sank her body onto his cock.

He was helpless, or as near as mattered, as Reid held him while Charlotte ground against him, squeezing hard as she slid him deep. Gently, at first, then bucking one knee up, so that she crouched over him; a savage, feral position that let her drive down hard, blinding him again for an instant before she picked up a rhythm and laid in relentlessly.

His fangs stung with need as he threw his head back, arching into her, but Reid would not allow it. Instead, Reid's arousal poured into him in return and he found Reid's cock pressing hard between his hands, reminding him of the role Geoffrey ought to play, since he was keeping Reid's own hand's busy. So he squeezed and pulsed and stroked as Jonathan rutted against him.

When at last he thought he could take no more, Reid released him abruptly. He fell back, expecting Charlotte to drive him over the edge, but she stopped. Panting, he looked up. Reid's hand lay delicately on her shoulder, the other travelling down her back, his eyes asking a question. She looked bewildered. But then, as his hand reached its intended goal, every muscle inside her contracted with surprised delight and she nodded.

“Oh, God.” he heard himself growl, as Jonathan plucked the oil from the bed-stand and ran it over his fingers until they dripped.

Charlotte rocked against him; a slower pace, enough to keep him brimming with need, but not enough to carry him over that rising crest.

As Jonathan slipped a finger into her arse, Geoffrey felt her spasm around his cock and lost control. He reared up, seizing her shoulders, bracing himself to thrust into her.

“ _STOP, Geoffrey.”_

Charlotte's eyes widened as every tendon and muscle in Geoffrey's body seized at the command. For the first time, she truly saw the power Jonathan wielded over her own Maker, and it terrified her. Geoffrey felt that fear burn through her and almost singe him in turn. But, as Reid's fingers worked, preparing her, teasing her, he felt something else from her instead; something familiar. The same terrible lust he felt at times; the knowledge that they belonged to Jonathan. That no matter how powerful he was, they were the ones who had hunted him, and caught him.

“ _Lay back_.” His Maker told him. He did. He couldn't help but obey.

Geoffrey couldn't bear to look, he couldn't bear not to look. As Jonathan pressed against her asshole, Charlotte's eyes grew wider still and a small, hungry moan escaped her lips. His reptilian eyes narrowed as he looked down upon them both, then dragged her relentlessly onto him. Feeling Jonathan's cock, pressing like granite against his through the muscle of Charlotte's body, he fought desperately against the rising wave. He wanted to stay. He needed to feel it.

Reid closed his hands around Charlotte's waist, fingers digging deep into the caramel flesh that was so much more tender than Geoffrey's own. He was gentle enough, careful, considerate, rocking back and forth, acclimatising her to his presence alongside Geoffrey. When, at last, her body unwound and accepted his cock completely, all that restraint was put aside.

God, Geoffrey was helpless under it. His own hands snapped up to close, claws-bared around Charlotte's waist. They met Jonathan's there and their fingers entwined, entangled as Charlotte cried out in an unknowable mix of ecstasy and agony, pressing back against both of them. Jonathan's cock and Charlotte's strength rolled relentlessly up, and down, and along his length. It would have threatened to crush him between them, had he not himself been agonizingly hard; a monolith inside her.

He felt his balls contract hard against his body and all he could think was how much it felt like Jonathan was fucking him too.

For the first time, when he tried to scream, there was only a monstrous, inhuman roar. Fangs bared, unable to see, unable to hear anything while he felt _everything,_ he arched into her. As waves pounded up from his balls and blasted his sense of himself to pieces, he reared up and sank his fangs into her neck.

The blood burst into his mouth. Sweet, pulsing waves of it washed down his throat, as he spilled himself in waves inside her and she spasmed in waves around him. She shuddered underneath his tongue, around his cock, under Jonathan's hands, and came gushing alongside. It felt like a circle. It felt perfect.

Still, they could not yet collapse. They needed him to end it. They needed him to be satisfied. They could not rest, not until then. Jonathan's hand was on the back of his head, holding him to her as Charlotte moaned. She took it all, all the monstrous power Jonathan had to give into her body, all the sensations permeating from her Maker and her Maker's Maker, whimpering against the torrent, until he at last he growled, deeply, dragging her onto him, the ragged rhythm turning ferocious, hungry and finally, he slammed down deep against them and burst, climaxing, filling her body to the brim.

A long shuddering breath ran through them all.

The threads began to untangle. Geoffrey slid his fangs out of her throat and eased back, eyes closed, breathing hard. Perhaps he didn't need the oxygen, but he needed the breath.

Charlotte made a small, hungry sound and Geoffrey tilted his chin, inviting her to fill herself from him. Jonathan's lips found his and he kissed him, deeply and lovingly, as Charlotte fed.

They lay, unable to move, not even wanting to, until they all felt it.

The sun was coming, relentlessly, unforgivably. They would have fought it if they could. But they couldn't stop it rising.

They drew together as it came; the arms and legs seeming innumerable; enough to wrap around everyone, pressing them close to each other, holding on, cleaving tight, as sleep took them down, down, down together.

***  
  
It never happened again like that. At least, it never happened quite like that. There would be times, after they Hunted together, when something like it became inevitable. But more often than not, Charlotte remained apart.

She was content with that, content to savour the second-hand sensations, to take appeasement into her own hands and command her own satiation. It suited her intentions for her new life.  
  
But it wasn't only that. Some part of Reid could never reconcile with her existence; the way she drew Geoffrey's blood subtly away from him. He studied and researched and chased the scientific meaning of it all. But, it didn't matter really. As long as Charlotte took his blood regularly, his own blood seemed to 'recognise' hers, keeping her safe enough, while she learned from them both how to be what she was.

In time, she would set off on her own. As for the two of them, they could work that out as they went.  
  
It had worked pretty well so far.


End file.
